A Great Date with Zombies in Paradise
by SincerelyCarmillaKarnstein
Summary: Sherlock and John have a date. Zombies happen. I wrote this RP with my old RP partner, but alas, I have lost contact. I don't take all the credit!


Sherlock looks at John, "I thought I was alone."

"Well you were wrong. For once." John starts to stand from the chair he was sitting in.

Sherlock stayed calm, "You haven't been here for quite some time, so it seemed to be a good assumption that you wouldn't be here today either."

John now standing, looked at sherlock with worry in his eyes but did not respond to him.

John could see the fear in sherlock's beautiful blue-green eyes and walked closer to the tall man.

Sherlock stood still and made sure he straightened his pose, "At least you're here now, so maybe you can get me more equipment for my experiments." He said as he took out a list and stretched his hand out to give it to John.

He wanted a distraction, so he didn't have to see the way John looked at him.

John took the list but still looked at sherlock. It was obvious that sherlock didn't want him to see his gun-shot wound, even an idiot like Anderson could see that. But John still stared at sherlock. After about 10 seconds of this, John sighs, sets down the list and takes off his jumper and dress shirt.

Then, John slowly stretched his hand towards Sherlock's scar until he was touching it. Then did the same to his scar. "You don't have to be scared. We match now"

He tried to ignore the fact that John wasn't wearing his jumper let alone his dress shirt.

Although he wasn't used to physical touch often, he did his best to tell himself that it wasn't necessary let alone comforted him.

But this was John and he wasn't like the others.

Sherlock looked at John and turned his body slightly, so that John would have a difficult time touching his wound.

"I'm not scared of anything, John. Do you expect me to gain some sort of comfort because we have similar scars?" Sherlock said with some coldness in his voice.

No expecting this reaction, John put his hand down and took a step back.

"I-uh, well no. I'm not sure what I was thinking"

"Exactly, you weren't thinking. People like you waste your time by not thinking situations through. That is what makes you imbecile."

Sherlock huffed, walked straight to his room, and slammed the door.

John just stood there for a few moments and thought about why he did that. And what he was expecting. But could not come up with a logical answer. He walked over to where he a set is jumper and dress shirt down and slowly put them on.

Sherlock walked out of his room fully clothed and stared at the list in John's hand before walking out the door.

His mind had memorized everything that he needed for each and every experiment that he either was working on, or planned to do.

When sherlock left his room, John tried to look anywhere but at him. He wanted to say something but he didn't know what. Sorry maybe? But how would he say it? Anyway John did it, he knew Sherlock wouldn't accept the apology. But what if...

"Sorry, f-for what I did." John whispered just loud enough for Sherlock to hear.

Before Sherlock left, even if did his best to ignore it, he looked at John.

He couldn't recall in his memories a moment when someone had apologized to him let alone being sincere.

Sherlock stared at him a little longer than he wanted to, but he'd let John interpret it any way he wanted to.

"I...I don't know what I expected from my actions and well, I'm sorry." John had found the courage to look at Sherlock and it surprised him that Sherlock was looking at him with...confusion?

Sherlock wanted to look away, but part of him actually began noticing the details in his eyes.

Sherlock wanted to say something that he thought people would normally say in this situation, but he was speechless.

He opened his mouth, "There's milk where I need to go. I'm only getting it because it's there."

"Oh, okay. Do you want me to go with you?"

John said this before he could even think about it. But if Sherlock said yes it would be a good reason to just be with him and apologize properly... 'No John,' he thought to himself, 'that Is a stupid idea!' But it was too late.

"I'm fully capable of buying milk on my own, John. I'm not a child."

Sherlock had said this a tad bit softer than usual.

He didn't fully understand why he'd reacted this way.

John couldn't think of anything to say. He was speechless and worried. Worried that with every word he said sherlock would just get madder. So he just stood there staring at the floor, like a child being punished by his mother.

Sherlock felt a small pain in his chest when he saw John look so different compared to how he usually was.

"The jumper you have on is less grotesque looking than the others I've seen you wear."

John, still looking at the floor, managed to find the words,

"Thank you."

He couldn't deal with this feeling he had. He could not name it, it was a mixture of strange feelings like guilt and sadness. Along with anger. Anger because he could not see why sherlock could not act like a human instead if a robot Spock, just this once. He tried to apologize. But like John expected, Sherlock did not accept it. John wished that Sherlock would stay and talk to him but at the same time he wanted Sherlock gone so he could think.

Sherlock put his hand on the door knob and rested his hand there.

"I'm going out, John." Sherlock opened the door and walked loudly down the stairs.

He did this to drown out the thoughts that were coming to him when he thought of John.

He had hailed a taxi and before getting in, he took one last glance at where he lived with John.

John sighed heavily and went back to his chair and sat down. He thought about what just happened and why it happened. He wished the had a time machine or something so he could go back and fix this. But he can't he is stuck he, sitting in his chair and thinking about he has done and what is to come. Like a small child in a time-out.

Sherlock arrived at the store and took his time with finding the right equipment he'd needed for his experiment.

He tried to remember what John had told him about milk.

John had told him at one point to make sure he got the milk last when shopping, so it didn't spoil.

He didn't save the information on which milk John always bought, so he purchased one of every kind they sold.

He hailed for another taxi to get him after he'd paid.

John heard the familiar sound of the door being unlocked and sherlock's quiet steps on the stairs. Not yet having an idea of what to say to Sherlock, John quickly picked up the nearest book and began reading.

Sherlock finally reached the top of the stairs and opened the door.

He put everything he bought away and walked over to John.

John set the book to the side and slowly looked up at Sherlock. He knew he should say something but still didn't know what.

Sherlock cleared his throat and said only one thing, "Milk."

"Oh...yeah, okay. I thought you were getting more things.. For your experiments?"

John was surprised and confused by Sherlock's lack of words. Usually he would have rambled on about a case or something. Was he still just as uncomfortable as John?

Sherlock took a deep breath and what he was about to say was going to embarrass him.

"I couldn't remember the type of milk you drink. I do know that you constantly nag me over the milk, so I bought one of each for you.

I didn't memorize what you said because it seemed like a waste of data to keep in my brain."

He paused for a second, "My experiment is of high importance to me as you know, but the milk had the tiniest percent more of importance."

Sherlock really wanted to say, "It's because you're important to me, John."

He didn't know why he was wanting to make John feel better.

Usually, he didn't focus so much on how John felt day to day because he always assumed he was fine.

John had finally thought of something to say but he knew he was going to most likely regret it. "Why was the milk more important than your experiments?"

Sherlock had to think about it before answering because he didn't want to give a cruel response. Not to John.

"Because you need it to stay healthy. Milk has nutritional values and since each type of milk has it's own specific use.

Due to milk only having a certain amount of time to be of worth, you better drink it in the appropriate time frame.

I don't need you to be out of shape when we go on a case because the last thing I need is for you to fail at your portion of the work."

He hoped that John could interpret that he was attempting to compliment him.

"Okay, uh thank you...for getting the milk that is."

John felt quite awkward talking to sherlock about milk but it was what he had right now. He still couldn't think of what he really wanted to say. He still felt he needed to apologize again for earlier but he didn't want to bring it up again. But it was all he could think about.

"Obviously you must have something going on in that brain of yours or else you wouldn't reply so vaguely.

If you don't say it, then your brain will constantly have this idea running through your thoughts."

Sherlock knew this all too well because he had dealt with it during cases.

Recently, it has occurred when he thought of John. He thought John was going to be in the category of Anderson or Donovan.

Both in his opinion were constantly getting in his way. But due to John's background, he recanted this thought.

John thought about this for a moment, he knew that he should but was to nervous to just stand up say say, 'I'm sorry that I took my shirt off and told you that we're the same. I knew you were scared and that made me feel sad because you shouldn't be afraid of me. I really care about you.' But he did it any way...

"Alright, again, I am sorry for earlier. I didn't know what I was thinking or what I expected." John started to ramble, "I just didn't want you to be afraid."

Wait! Did I really just say that?! Oh no, oh no. What is Sherlock going to think? Oh no.

"Afraid?" Sherlock was trying to recollect the definition of the word and how it described him.

He immediately began to feel angry that John would say that he was afraid.

Sherlock wasn't ever afraid because that was a sign of weakness.

"Afraid?" He repeated, but he raised his voice.

"What makes you think that I'd be afraid? It's an emotion that I don't feel when referring to myself let alone when anybody would have the audacity to say it to me."

He didn't want to admit that he did in fact feel afraid, especially when it had to do with John.

He did his best to keep his emotions locked away tightly because certain emotions would tamper with his cases.

"I have no time to be afraid when dealing with my work. The only time that I have will always be spent on a case."

John was beginning get angry. With himself mostly. Why would he say something like that? Why couldn't he learn to think before he spoke? Why? John looked down at his hands sitting in his lap. He tried to say something but couldn't find the words he searched and searched his brain for something to say but found nothing that would work. He then looked back up at sherlock who was staring at him angrily.

Sherlock looked at John who stared at his hands and then back at him.

He closed his eyes for a moment to calm himself down, "I made no observations that I was afraid. I was merely surprised you were here."

He paused, "The scar might be something new, but I've had...accidents during my experiments that at times seemed to be a lot worse."

Part of him wanted to comfort John.

He awkwardly stretched out his arm to pat John's shoulder, but withdrew his arm.

John smiled. But only a little, when sherlock touched his shoulder. He had finally found the words he had been looking for, "Sorry for saying that you were afraid. It just seemed that way."

It didn't come out exactly the way John wanted but at least he had said something.

Sherlock wasn't expecting John to answer his question.

He secretly did enjoy the way that John had touched his scar.

Although he wasn't used to it, he admitted to himself that he could get used to it, but only if it was by John.

Sherlock carefully unbuttoned his purple dress shirt, so he didn't ruin it.

He let it fall to the ground and moved a little closer to John.

John looked from Sherlock's chest and then back to his face. Making no effort to hide his confusion.

Sherlock was making himself feel utterly vulnerable.

He gently held onto one of John's hands and placed it onto his scar.

John was still quite confused but he couldn't deny that he was enjoying this. It was strange for Sherlock, but a good strange. But John had to know what Sherlock was doing. "W-what are you doing, Sherlock?"

He didn't mean to stutter. He hoped Sherlock hadn't noticed but who was he kidding? Sherlock noticed everything.

"I want you to make sure that my scar is alright and as a doctor, you need to touch as well as to observe to make an accurate conclusion." Sherlock said and made sure that he emphasized on the word touch.

John, mesmerized by the sight of sherlock's hand on top of his, didn't reply to Sherlock for a few moments. He quickly snapped out of it and looked up at Sherlock, somehow managing the words, "oh I uh, okay."

And he started examining the scar. After short awhile of awkward silence John had decided that Sherlock's scar was fine and said, "Your scar is perfectly normal. Nothing to worry about."

John quickly realized what he had just said and quickly whispered just loud enough that if there were other people in the room, Sherlock would be the only one who could hear him. "If we were worried, that is." He took a small step backwards.

"Are you positive, John? You need to make sure. Come back over here." Sherlock said calmly even if a part of him wanted to snap at him.

Not because he was upset, but he did like being in charge...just a little too much.

John thought this over and slowly took a step forward but did not examine the scar any further. "I'm sure, it is fine. The wound healed just as it was supposed to."

Sherlock huffed a bit and grabbed his shirt.

'Why couldn't John see what was happening? It was so obvious!' Sherlock thought.

He walked to his room, changed into his robe, and laid down on the couch like a child having a temper tantrum.

John stares at the back of Sherlock's head wishing he would tell John what he had done wrong. He slowly walked back over to his chair but did not pick up the book. He couldn't take his eyes off of Sherlock. What had he wanted from John? Was he really worried about his scar or did he want something...a hug maybe? No, why would Sherlock waste his time with something like that? But...he did go get milk. He has never done that before. And he did it FOR John. He said that the milk was more important than his experiments...Doing something for John was more important than Sherlock's experiments!

Sherlock kept his back towards John. At first, he thought he only wanted John to touch his scar.

Then it turned into him wanting a hug and then something more.

He trusted John with his life and John was his only friend.

He wanted John to be something...more.

"John, I'm cold." Sherlock said loudly enough for him to hear.

John now knew what Sherlock wanted. John wanted that too. But he just wasn't ready. So he asked, "do you want me to get you a blanket or-" he quickly stopped himself from adding 'do you want me to hold you?'

Sherlock muttered, "I don't want a blanket, they aren't warm enough and I'm freezing."

The truth was that he was comfortable, but it seemed like he'd say anything to get the chance to physically be closer to him.

It reminded him of the time when he grabbed onto John's hand and they ran off together into the night on a case.

Another memory he enjoyed was talking to John about the stars in the night sky.

It was moments like those where Sherlock felt safe. He was with John, his John.

He'd do whatever he could do, so that John would stay with him.

John sighed very quietly and gathered his strength. He stood up and walk to the couch. "Budge over."

Sherlock moved over as much as he could to let John have room.

He turned to face John, "I don't see why that was so difficult." He whispered quietly.

John didn't reply he just wrapped his arm around sherlock and buried his face into Sherlock's chest. John had wanted do this for so long and now it was finally happening. He hoped that this was actually happening and not some dream.

Sherlock felt John wrap his arm around him and the fact that his face against his chest.

He let out a sigh of relief and pulled John as close to him as possible.

Sherlock thought that he probably should've warned John that for once, he didn't have anything underneath his robe.

He hoped that John didn't notice anything and in this position, he couldn't correct his position even if he wanted to.

John could not contain his happiness. He was grinning like an idiot into Sherlock's chest.

Sherlock cleared his throat and moved a little, so that John had more room.

John scooted backwards just enough so he could look up at sherlock to see if anything was wrong.

The look on Sherlock's face could only be defined with one word: uncomfortable. But why was Sherlock uncomfortable? Was it something John had done?

"What's wrong, Sherlock?"

Sherlock was trying to find words to explain himself.

He did his best to make himself more comfortable and part of his robe had opened up even more on his lower half.

John did not get an answer so he scooted back closer to sherlock.

Sherlock felt his cheeks warm up unexpectedly and a part of his body was beginning to 'wake up'.

He knew that a part of his body was betraying him and it was now pressing against John.

John felt something pressing against his leg, and he knew exactly what that something was. He tried his best to ignore it but he couldn't. He looked back up at sherlock, biting his lip.

Sherlock could only blush more. "J-John, I can explain."

Sherlock blushing was one of the most adorable things John had ever see. It made John want to kiss him. So, he did. John leaned his head up as far as it would go and gently pecked Sherlock's lips. He pulled away quickly to make sure that was an okay thing for him to do.

Sherlock was unprepared as John had kissed him. It was soft and over too quickly.

He was curious if he could do a good a job as John.

He was new to this, but he was slowly liking it.

He leaned in as John had done to him and kissed him.

If John would repeat his gesture exactly, then his senses would be heightened even more than it already was.

He kissed him a little longer than John and he licked his own lips.

"This is a new experience for me." Sherlock admitted.

He wanted to explore John more.

For Sherlock, everything seemed to happen in a blur.

All of a sudden, he was completely naked in front of John.

At first he was extremely embarrassed, but felt better when John also had no clothes on.

John caressed Sherlock's stomach and moved downward from there. Grabbing Sherlock's penis, he started giving him a hand job. Moving slow at first but then getting faster.

Sherlock were surprised at John touching his penis, and he seemed to give him more pleasure than he could've given himself.

He was focusing on how warm John's hand was and how his breathing began to quicken a little.

Sherlock had seen porn plenty of times for research, but feeling the real thing was completely different.

John was still having a hard time believing that what was happening was real. He was actually giving Sherlock a hand job! He started moving his hand as fast as it would go.

Sherlock did everything he could to focus on John's face, but instead, his eyes drifted downward to what John was doing to him. It was an amazing feeling to have, but what he was happiest about the most was that this was John doing this to him.

John kept moving as fast as he could but couldn't help himself, a quickly leaned his head toward Sherlock's. they kissed for longer that time. Tongue and everything. He used his free hand to rub his fingers through Sherlock's hair and pulling it into his fist.

Sherlock let out a small gasp when John had begun to kiss him because his thoughts were completely clear of everything except John. It was a freeing feeling that he rarely had experienced. Being able to taste John was an experience that he would repeat in the future. The way that John had grabbed onto his hair had sent shivers down his spine. No matter how much he might yell and act as though he is in control around him, he desperately wanted John to take control of him. And in this way, he'd own him.

John and Sherlock now lay on the couch, facing each other in a comfortable silence. They only sounds were the soft humming of cars driving past the flat and heavy breathing. John wanted to say something to Sherlock about how great it was, about how much he loves Sherlock, but couldn't find the right words. All he could say was, "Wow...that was just-wow"

Sherlock did something he rarely did, he pulled John as close to him as possible. Then, he looked at John for a few moments before saying, "Yes, that was definitely a new...experience."

John couldn't stand it any longer. He had to say it. Or at least try to. "Sherlock?"

"Yes, John?" Sherlock answered as he made himself comfortable on the couch next to John.

Sherlock had no clue on how to react because he had not once heard those words ever being directed at him. "You love me?" He furrowed his brow as he was trying to understand what John said. He knew that by observing relationships that saying this was a large step as well as sleeping with someone.

"Yes of course I love you. I have since the day we moved in together." John knew It was a hard thing for Sherlock to understand.

"That sounds highly improbable, but there's a slight chance it is possible." Sherlock said as he folded his hands in front of himself as he closed his eyes. "If I recall properly, the thing that is most common in this modern day is to take you out on something called a "date," I believe. But from all of the cases we've been on together, I consider those "dates" since it's when two people do things together."

John couldn't believe it. See lock was asking him out on a date. But considering what he though a date was it wasn't going to be what John had kept imagining. "Sherlock, standing around a dead body and figuring out who put it there isn't a date."

"I consider it a date though because by definition, you and I were two people doing something together. You always have a happy look on your face whenever I mention that we have a new case." Sherlock said.

"Yes, but- okay. What what ever we do is fine as long as we are together." John couldn't deny that he loved going on cases. He loved ever aspect of them. From watching sherlock work to even the car ride back to the flat. But the best part was when John complimented Sherlock's skills and Sherlock's face would light up. It was his favorite thing.

"I was thinking of visiting the morgue and show you why I love it so much, but I go there too often already." He furrowed his brow. Sherlock didn't want to admit to John that he was in fact very poor when it came to being romantic. He wasn't the type of man to think about such trifling items that most specifically have to do with another human being.

"You're my only friend, John. Since you're my only one and are more familiar with companionship with two people, then you should choose. But don't take me to any dreadful places that you took your past girlfriends to."

John thought for a moment and suddenly and maybe a bit too loudly, "Angelino's! The first place we ate together!"

"The morgue is more comfortable than you think, John. Since I've done enough favors for Molly, I doubt she'd mind letting us eat in the lab." Sherlock said, "...And we can also order Angelino's there too."

"Okay," John still wasn't sure about eating in the same room with dead bodies...but he was going to be with sherlock and as long as they were together, then nothing else mattered. He smiled to himself but was secretly hoping Sherlock would notice. He wasn't sure why though.

Sherlock felt extremely excited, but it was probably due to the fact that he was going to visit the morgue when there wasn't a case along with the fact that John would be accompanying him.

"John, we should go now because we have no time to waste!" He jumped up off the couch and made sure not to knock John over. He was now right in front of the door, "Coming John?"

"I think we need clothes first." John laughed getting up off of the couch and walking to his room.

Sherlock looked down after John made that comment and went into his own room to get dressed. As he waited for John at the door, he made sure that he was looking his best. His shirt was a button up as always, but the color this time was crimson and shimmery just like his purple one. He made sure that his top few buttons were unbuttoned to reveal part of his chest as well as his collarbone. He wore a dark grey vest with black pants.

He admitted to himself as well as to John that he did love his jumpers, but he was wondering if he'd wear something that is new. "It might be best if you wear something of mine since my clothes are warm and are appropriate for this event." Sherlock said.

"None of your clothes will fit me!" John called from his room. A few moments later, John appeared in the living room wearing beige dress pants and a dark blue button up with no jumper.

Sherlock looked at John and didn't know that John had very good taste in style. "You look..." He couldn't find words to describe how he looked. Sherlock wanted to say that he looked sexy, but it didn't seem like a word he'd use. "...appetizing." He finished off his sentence with.

Surprisingly, Sherlock looked even more attractive than he normally did. John wished he would wear waistcoats more often. Sherlock looked...hot.

"You look even more attractive than you normally do." John replied.

Sherlock chuckled, "If I didn't then you wouldn't find me attractive. Men are known to be more visual than women. This is why men find porn so exciting."

He held out his hand to John, "Shall we go?"

"We shall."

John takes Sherlock's hand in his and smiles as he looks down at their intertwined fingers. Together they made their way down the stairs and out the door into the cool Autumn air.

Sherlock was holding onto John's hand and looked down at it. He was trying to get used to the feeling of someone's hand in his. The way that his fingers intertwined with John had reminded him of the way the double helix looked.

Using his free hand, John hailed a cab. It was a short ride to the morgue. When they made their way inside and found Molly, she said they could eat in the lab with a saddened look on her face.

Sherlock wasn't paying attention to the way that Molly had reacted because he was in one of his most favorite places. He took out his phone with his free hand and texted someone.

"The food will be here momentarily, John. Do you want to test out a body while we wait? I thought I'd go retrieve my riding crop from the closet."

"Uh, Yeah sure."

John would still rather not have Sherlock and his first date in the morgue but like he said before, as long as he was with Sherlock, it didn't matter what they were doing. John let go of Sherlock's hand so he could walk to the closet.

Sherlock opened the closet and looked at it for a moment. "I have plenty of items here that I can use on a body, but the riding crop seems to be the best option at the moment."

He quickly grabbed the riding crock, closed the closet, and walked straight to one of the doors to get a body out.

The sound was very loud and he looked down at the body for a moment, "Do you want to do the honors, John?"

"Sure."

John took the riding crop from Sherlock and stepped to the side of the body. He brought his hand up slowly. Then suddenly whipped it back down again hitting the body's stomach.

John then handed the riding crop back to Sherlock. Not eager to do that again.

Sherlock watched with fascination as John held the riding crop and he happily took the riding crop. He raised it higher than John and it hit it a lot harder too.

He looked at the body and discovered that he had seen the bruisers that would slowly form in the future.

He was going to hit it one more time before he heard a knock at the door of the morgue.

Sherlock lowered the riding crop until it was at his side and he walked towards the door. He opened it, spoke a few words, and carried both bags with food boxes to the body.

He placed the bags with the food in it right on top of the body.

"He personally delivered the food and told me to tell you that he is happy that we're finally on a date."

Sherlock went through one of the bags and picked out a food box to hand to John,

John blushed very lightly at Angelino's comment. He took the food box from Sherlock. Their fingers touching in the process.

"Thank you." John said as he moved the body's cold, limp arm out of the space he was going set his food.

"John, I temporarily put it there until I found the table." Sherlock said as he pulled over a rolling metal table.

He gently held John's wrist and waited patiently for him to move.

"Come, John."

"Oh," John replied. Obviously embarrassed. He picked up his box and walked over towards the table. Setting his box down, he couldn't think of anything to say besides, "soo.."

Sherlock let go of John's wrist and began slowly opening his box. He dug the fork into his food and began to eat.

"Did you think I was going to eat on a corpse? Even though that dead body has been in that chamber, it doesn't necessarily mean it's clean."

He paused a moment, "John, I'm experiencing a new memory with you to save in here." He tapped on his head lightly with his index finger.

John blushed again, still embarrassed about thinking Sherlock would eat on the corpse.

"You're creating the same memory as me, but the thing is that it's from your point of view. If you try to remember it over and over again, the details tend to change and you won't be able to remember it one hundred percent accurately." Sherlock said.

"That's very interesting, Sherlock." John hadn't been paying attention. Well not really. He had been too busy staring into Sherlock's beautiful blue-green eyes. Lost in thoughts of the future.

Sherlock was taken time to eat his meal and he looked at the door for a second, "Did you hear anything, John?" He could've sworn he heard a faint noise.

John didn't reply for a moment. Still lost in thought.

"Huh? Oh, uh, no.."

John looked towards the door then back at Sherlock, "What did you hear?"

"I heard a noise a little down towards the hall. It wouldn't be possible since Molly was the only one in here besides us." Sherlock stood up straight and holds onto John's hand a little too title. "John, stay by my side." He moved John behind him and slowly walked towards the door.

John was beginning to get frightened, Sherlock had his hand in a death grip witch obviously Sherlock was frightened as well. Sherlock used his free hand to open the door and together they walked a little ways down the hall.

Sherlock slowly walked down the hall with John and he made sure that he was on alert. As they walked further down the hall, he saw a hand that was clutching onto a door. He couldn't see it very well, but he smelled a foul stench.

"The morgue has many scents, but this one seems a lot worse than any of them that I've smelled." He wanted to plug his nose, but he felt better holding onto John's hand.

"Yes, that-that's disgusting." John tried to talk without gagging, but it didn't workout very well. They walked closer to the door and the smell became even more horrid with ever step. John now saw the hand, not noticing it before. It looked...strange. Very strange.

Sherlock wrinkled his nose in disgust when they had reached the front door, "I fully agree with you, John. The smell is most pungent and the hand was a horrible color. He'd seen many corpses in his time, but this is the first time that he saw it move.

"John, did it move? I could've sworn I saw it move." Sherlock said and the fingers were moving and he heard a growling noise too. He walked until he was right in front of the door and finally was able to see it.

"Sherlock, how would it move?"

But he still peeked his head around the tall man. He heard the growing, and just as Sherlock had said, It moved. The corpse, by now, was sitting fully upright on the tray and was turning itself slowly towards them.

Sherlock took a deep breath, ?I believe that it somehow brought itself back to this state, but it still is dead, so it doesn't function as a human anymore. I doubt there's much that it can do except want to eat."

He paused, "Isn't this sort of thing something you watch on telly, John?"

"Z-Zombie" John sputtered out and started running back down the hall, basically dragging Sherlock behind him. When they got back to the lab, John quickly let go of Sherlock's hand and rolled the corpse that they were examining earlier into the hall.

"Sherlock, help me get the other bodies out. They might be infected too."

Although Sherlock had utterly hated being dragged away, he was a bit fascinated that what John watched on telly was becoming real.

Sherlock looked at the corpse and how John had begun rolling the corpse into the hall. He gave a small sigh and helped John roll the other bodies out in the hall.

"John, do you think we can take one back to test it out?" Sherlock asked while trying not to sound too eager.

John paused for a moment thinking this over. "Is there a something like an interrogation room here?" John wished that Sherlock wouldn't want to keep one. But this is Sherlock, and if some interested him, you should let him do it.

Sherlock nodded, "Yes, I asked Molly to build a special room that is protected from realistic possibilities like explosions. It's safe. We should take the one we were about to eat on. It'd be a special memory we can share together."

Sherlock went to grab the corpse and he gripped onto the gurney tightly, "Come on John, we need to experiment!"

"What a great first date." John said sarcastically as he walked/jogged over to help push the corpse to the special room.

Sherlock chuckled, "John, all I needed was to be with you. The location wasn't what was important." Both of them had reached the door to Sherlock's special room. He turned around quickly, "There are two types of zombies that I learned about and it is depending on their speed. There is either a faster type or a slow type."

He saw the corpses that he and John had rolled out into the hall begin to sit up right. Each one turned their heads to look directly at him. One stood up shakily and began to run in their directions. The others began to follow the first one.

John turned his head around, "Well, lets hope that they are the slow type!" And began pushing the cart a little faster. Luckily the corpse on the tray hadn't started moving. Yet. They had finally made it too the special room.

Sherlock went to go shut the door and made sure that it was securely locked. "John, if we don't make this out alive, I want you to know something."

He began running to a cabinet full of supplies and found thick ropes to tie the corpse on the cart down. He made sure it was secured and then he heard loud banging noises.

He picked up a syringe and made sure it was prepared before he walked over right in front of the corpse. It took a moment to contain himself and noticed that the corpse was being brought to "life" again.

John took a few steps back, away from the tray. "Please don't say that. We'll make it. I promise." He said shakily. Now leaning against the wall furthest way from the corpse.

Sherlock tried to calm himself down as he slowly approached the corpse. "John, I need you to get everything out of the draws on that metal table! If it looks like something I've used doing my experiments, then put it to one side. The others you don't identify should be put on the left."

He saw how the corpse moved and it was growling as well as making very fast movements. He tried to find the best place to get its blood, but it seemed a bit risky to choose the neck.

He decided that he would do so anyways by using one hand to grip onto its neck and stabbed the neck with his syringe. He ended up backing away again.


End file.
